


Five Times Hungary, Austria And Prussia Tried To Have A Threesome (And One Time They Actually Did)

by Daegaer



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Anthropomorphic Personifications, Historical, Humour, International Relations, Multi, Romance, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-05
Updated: 2010-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-08 17:38:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prussia throws a spanner in the works. Repeatedly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Hungary, Austria And Prussia Tried To Have A Threesome (And One Time They Actually Did)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Puddingcat for beta-reading and to Rheasilvia for German-picking!

**1212**

Hungary and Austria were fighting _again_, and Austria was getting the worst of it as usual. His knees were skinned and he had the beginnings of a black eye, and his stupid, prissy glasses were lying in the dust. The German Order picked them up and put them on, squinting at how wavy the world had become. Austria must always have a headache from these things, he thought, deciding it would explain a lot about his attitude.

"Hi, Hungary," he said.

"Hi," Hungary said breathlessly, and knocked Austria over to lie on his back, whimpering.

"I can't see," Austria said.

"That's because the new boy has your glasses."

"I'm not the _new boy_. I'm _the Order_ -"

" – Of the German house of St Mary in Jerusalem," Hungary finished in a mocking tone. "Or "Mary" for short," he added, pulling Austria back to his feet.

"My glasses, please," Austria said, holding out a grubby, plump hand. "Mary."

The German Order narrowed his eyes and winced as the world got wavier. He took off the glasses and held them out. "Here you go," he said. "You'll need them to spot Switzerland when he shows up to save your ass. Again."

Austria muttered something about not needing Switzerland or anyone's help, and then he turned his back and sat down, ignoring them both. Hungary rolled his eyes and prodded him with one foot.

"Stop sulking. It's too hot to fight any more. Who wants to go and swim in the Danube?"

"In my bit of it?" Austria said hopefully.

"No, idiot, my bit."

"I don't like your bit," Austria said, snootily.

"Well, I don't have a bit of it, so it's a rubbish river, and would encourage vanity and despair anyway, which would be a cause of sin for you two losers," the German Order said. Hungary raised his eyebrows.

"How so?"

"You'd think you were good looking, which would be vanity, till you saw _real_ perfection," he said, modestly indicating himself. "And then you'd despair."

"Sounds like _someone's_ suffering from vanity all right," Austria sniffed from the ground.

"It's not vanity if you really are perfect," the German Order grinned, and sat beside him. "Finished sulking yet?"

"I'm not sulking!"

"Whatever. Do those things really help you to see?"

Austria gave him a look like he was the stupidest boy in Christendom. "Yes," he said. "They help me see."

"Swimming would also give you strange ideas," the German Order said. "You'd probably want to touch my willy."

"I'd need stronger glasses just to see it," Austria said with a nasty little smile that begged to be punched off his face.

"Have you ever touched another boy's willy?" Hungary said, interrupting the proceedings just as the German Order had Austria by the throat.

"No," he said. "Why would I want to?"

"Me neither," Austria croaked.

"Haven't you noticed that most nations' people are very keen on all sorts of willy-touching?" Hungary said. "It must have _something_ going for it."

There was a contemplative pause. Then,

"Would you like to touch mine?" Austria said. "I could touch yours –"

Hungary went rather pink for someone who'd brought the conversation to this point. "Oh. Um, well, I'm sort of a late developer –"

The German Order dropped Austria back in the dust in disgust. He wasn't used to being ignored quite so much by people he was actually fighting. He was also just unused to being _ignored_. "There are three of us here, you know," he said.

"That's all right, each person could touch the other two," Austria said, getting to his knees and drawing a little plan in the dust that showed he had been giving all of this far too much thought, in the German Order's opinion.

"That's quite clever," Hungary said, looking at the sketch. "You're a lot better at art than at fighting."

"I'm sensitive," Austria said, his cheeks going red from the praise. "What do you think?" he added, turning to the German Order.

"I think you're an idiot," he said automatically, and paused. Hungary and Austria kept looking at the unfortunately detailed sketch and back at each other with a sort of intrigued expression. They were leaving him out _again_, which wasn't fair, because he had to admit he was sort of intrigued as well. "Fine, let's do it," he said, and unbuckled his sword belt. "Come on, armour off, everybody, no one wants cuts and bruises _there_, do they?"

Austria's sword belt hit the ground, swiftly followed by Austria's tabard, more clumsily followed by Austria trying to find where his glasses had sailed off to. Hungary unbuckled his sword belt more slowly, looking shy.

"I don't want you laughing, just because you're developing faster than me," he said. "If you do, I'll beat you up."

"Pfffft," the German Order said. "C'mon, we're all boys here."

Hungary grinned, a blindingly wide smile that made the German Order feel very much more intrigued. "Yeah," he said, and started undoing his armour.

The German Order had always been more inclined to action than to deep, probing thought; as far as he was concerned, that was what _other_ orders were for. Still, as he looked at his tabard, dropped down in a messy heap, the sight of the black cross stark against the white caught his eye. Vanity and despair were among the big sins, he thought, but other things were sins too, and led into the deadly ones. Now he thought about it, this plan seemed to have something to do with lust. He'd heard sermon after sermon about occasions of sin, and people being led astray by their carnal desires, which often, on casting his mind back, had an element of willy-touching somewhere in the mix.

"Guys?" he said. "Do you think this might be an abomination before the Lord?"

"Huh?" Hungary said, struggling out of his tunic and standing there in shirt and hose.

"Shut up," Austria said.

"It's just – well, I had to learn the entire Bible off, and do you think this counts as fornication? Or as polluting yourself with mankind? Or just yourself? They're all on the list –"

"Shut. Up," Austria said again.

"No, he's right," Hungary said, looking both relieved and disappointed. "Maybe we shouldn't. We should ask someone older for advice."

"I'm not asking France anything," Austria muttered.

The German Order nodded firmly. That was something they were in complete agreement on. He sighed as Hungary swiped up his tunic again and pulled it over his head. He had successfully resisted temptation and saved other people from sinning too, which should have felt more like a triumph than it did.

"What now?" he asked, getting as neatly back into his own clothes and armour as he could without help.

"You could come to my king's house for dinner," Hungary said cheerfully, and sauntered off, obviously expecting them both to follow.

Austria just carried his scabbarded sword and his sword belt in his hand, not even having the self-respect to put them back on, not matter how much the German Order sneered at him.

"I'm going to get you back for this," he said, sounding for once like a soldier rather than a stuck-up lah-di-dah. "You'd better watch out, new boy."

"My name's not "new boy"," the German Order said and shoved him, then ran after Hungary, Austria on his heels all the way.

 

* * *

 

**1240**

 

"That's a cool sword," Hungary said, popping another slice of apple in his mouth and nodding to the corner where the German Order had stacked his belongings. "Where'd you steal it?"

"I didn't _steal_ it," the German Order said, annexing as many pillows as he could. "It's a legitimate spoil of war. I took it from Russia – he cried like a big crybaby." It was only a _little_ fib, he thought, and he'd be sure to confess it later. Russia had really just smiled a creepy smile and told him to take care of it because he'd come and take it back eventually and then asked him to come and visit him at Lake Peipus. The German Order thought he might take a few thousand of his friends along with him when he went.

"What about this?" Austria asked from his other side, picking up the knife with which the German Order had sliced the apples. It had a smooth bone handle, covered with carvings of strange beasts, and a bright amber bead embedded in the centre of the bone.

"Took it from Lithuania on my way to Russia," the German Order said. "It's too nice for a heathen - he can eat with something plainer. I took this –" he fished a cross made from a large piece of amber out from under the neck of his shirt, "– on the way back. It had some sort of pagan idol on it, but I had it carved down and made into a cross. He actually cried when I showed it to him later." That _wasn't_ a fib, and was one of his most amusing memories.

Hungary rolled over onto his stomach, shifting a little uncomfortably. "Does anyone want more sweets?" he asked, pulling the bowl of candied fruits into the centre of the bed, rummaging till he found what he wanted. "Look, this is _sugar_," he said proudly. "My king bought lots, and said I could have as much as I wanted."

Austria took a small piece of the unappetising-looking stuff and crunched it up. "That's just too sweet," he said, grimacing. "I don't see it ever becoming popular."

"It's far too expensive," Hungary said. "I sort of wish all my people could have a little bit, though. What about you?"

The German Order shook his head. "Good, plain food and not enough of it to be gluttonous, that's what my Grand Masters say. I wouldn't like it at all – unless it has some medicinal qualities? I _am_ a hospitaller order."

"More like an order for putting people in hospital," Austria said and giggled at his own wit. "Hungary, why did you invite this lout to your slumber party?"

"The question is why'd he invite _you_?" the German Order grumbled. "Hungary and me get on all right. _You're_ the enemy here."

"I'm not your enemy," Austria said, his face saying he was spoiling for a fight. It looked pretty funny; he'd gone from plump and round-cheeked to skinny and angular, and still looked nothing like a soldier.

"Maybe not, but you're Hungary's!"

"Calm down," Hungary said. "I just wanted some peace and goodwill and not to have to fight over Christmas. We're all going to have a nice time and not argue, all right? This is nothing to do with the Holy Roman Empire." He nudged Austria firmly. "Right?"

"It's long past _his_ bedtime anyway," Austria mumbled. "Honestly, I end up running things half the time because he's too sleepy. I should just take everything over officially."

"No politics," Hungary said. He poked the German Order in the side. "And no gloating about how much better you are than miserable sinners."

"It's not a matter of gloating – " the German Order started. "Ow!" He rubbed his side where Hungary had poked him again rather more vigorously. "No politics, no religion," he said more meekly.

"Good," Hungary said, and rolled over him to lie wedged between him and Austria. "I think I'm a bit tipsy," he laughed. "What about you two?"

"I barely had two pints of hippocras," the German Order said, the wine and the sweets settling nicely in him to make him warm and sleepy. "I'm made of –" he yawned, "- sterner stuff than you."

"Civilised nations don't live by stolen beer alone," Austria said, snuggling into the quilt. "Does your room always spin, Hungary?" He drew a sharp breath then, and said nothing else.

The German Order wondered if he should bother turning his head to see what was up with Austria, then his eyes widened, and he wondered if he should instead maybe turn his head to see if he was imagining that someone was stroking his thigh. He peered to his left and saw that Hungary was smiling slightly up at the hangings of the bed. His hand was very definitely on the German Order's thigh, stroking little circles that felt more and more obvious, though the pressure remained light and even. He lifted his head further and looked at Austria, whose face was pressed into the pillows, only one eye visible, wide and shocked like a scared rabbit. The German Order sat up awkwardly and noted that Hungary's other hand was on Austria's ass, which would explain that.

"I've been thinking," Hungary said. "Do you remember a day when we were smaller, and it was really hot and I'd been fighting Austria-"

"Yes," Austria said, and he didn't sound like a scared rabbit. More like a mildly intimidated kitten, the German Order thought. "Whatever you're going to say next, the answer's _yes_, Hungary."

"Good," Hungary said, and took his hand off the German Order's leg so he could turn over and stroke Austria's face. "Oh, _good_, you've already taken your glasses off." He kissed Austria's cheek, and Austria made a strange squeaking noise, and sat up, fast. Before Hungary could do much more than blink in tipsy surprise Austria wrapped his arms round him and kissed him soundly on the mouth.

"Er –" the German Order said, wondering how a march had been stolen on him and who exactly was stealing it. "What –" Hungary wriggled out of Austria's embrace and kissed him as well, his lips sticky-sweet with the sugar and fruits they'd been eating. "Oh," he said in wonder as Hungary was pulled back by Austria.

"He can't even formulate sentences. Kiss _me_," Austria said, following this up with another sloppy kiss to Hungary's mouth and – as the German Order was a little belatedly outraged to see – a sneaky hand cupping Hungary's ass.

It wasn't that the German Order thought Hungary _minded_ \- it was quite clear he didn't, what with the way he squished closer to Austria and made a _very_ interesting sound into his mouth, which made _Austria_ make an interesting sound, which made the German Order feel rather lonely and left out.

"Hey," he said uncomfortably, "I'm right here –"

"Feel free to leave," Austria said, taking a brief moment away from his kissing practice.

"You can't just – you can't take advantage of our host like this!" the German Order said, kneeling up and getting ready to defend Hungary's honour whether he wanted it or not.

"May I?" Austria said to Hungary, who nodded enthusiastically. "It seems I can," he said smugly. "Get lost. I wouldn't want to be an occasion for sin for you."

"Bastard," the German Order said, wondering how best to punch him without punching Hungary as well.

Hungary sat up straight and pinched them both on the inner thigh. While they were blinking back tears of pain he crossed his arms in irritation. "No fighting! We are all going to be nice to each other. It's _Christmas_, so we have to show each other peace and goodwill. Or so help me, I'll make you both very sorry. Understand?"

"Yes, Hungary," they chorused meekly.

"Well, then –" he kissed the German Order again, stroking fingers over his inner thigh in a way that felt a lot nicer than the pinch had been.

"I'm just trying to help him keep his vows," Austria said. "Which I seem to remember were important to him the last time we were all together."

"Will you have to do a lot of penance?" Hungary whispered, kissing the tip of the German Order's nose as he nodded. "Do you mind that?"

He shook his head and kissed him with no expertise but a lot of eager enthusiasm. He'd never really given things like lust much thought, other than to be glad he wasn't a human with their odd urges, but he found himself willing to reconsider. Hungary's lips were soft, and Hungary's clever idea of opening his mouth and putting his tongue between the German Order's lips was really the most astonishing thing he'd experienced in a long time. He took a leaf out of Austria's book, running a hand over Hungary's ass, and slapping Austria's hand away as he did so.

"Don't be so greedy," Austria said, and plastered himself up against Hungary from behind, kissing the back of his neck, and slipping his hands round to the front. "Um," he said, sounding puzzled, as he rested a hand on Hungary's chest. "Hungary?"

"Yes?" Hungary said, wriggling back against him, and all questions very clearly left Austria's mind.

"You should do some training for your shoulders and chest," the German Order said, trying to dislodge Austria's hand from Hungary. "You're a bit weak and flabby."

"Less criticism, more kissing," Hungary said, and ducked aside as they both tried to obey. "Kiss each other, you two."

They glared at each other and then reluctantly leant in and kissed each other on the cheek, like they were making a treaty they had every intention of breaking.

"Kiss properly! We're all going to be nice to each other, remember?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Austria muttered, and then spluttered as the German Order grabbed him and stuck his tongue in his mouth. After a brief struggle they settled into a not unpleasant kiss that left them both panting when they drew apart.

"That was nice," Hungary said, bright-eyed. "Do that again!"

It was easier to fit in with Austria's gangly arms and sharp elbows this time, and the German Order had to admit – privately at least – that all that book-reading seemed to have given him some interesting ideas on the theory of kissing and copping a feel. He wasn't sure if it was a victory or a loss that Austria's hand ended up in his crotch before his did in Austria's; either way it was something he had no objections to, he decided.

"Maybe we should take our clothes off," Austria said, his voice hoarse.

"Good idea," Hungary said, his voice going higher with anticipation. "You're not to laugh at me, I'm still a sort of late developer."

"Don't worry," the German Order said, pulling his shirt over his head and breaking the laces in the process. What was a lack of body hair and an unbroken voice between friends, after all? He kicked off his hose and pulled Austria free of his. The lah-di-dah didn't look too bad out of his clothes, he thought. He must do _some_ sword training along with the reading and lute playing. Austria looked down his nose at him, and the German Order belatedly realised he was just straining to make things come clear in his vision. In a rare moment of empathy he leant in to kiss him, stroking a hand through his hair. "You're not as weedy as you seem," he said.

"Thanks," Austria said. "I think."

They turned to Hungary and froze. Hungary smiled nervously at them, a little shy.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Austria turned to the German Order. "Don't say it," he said. "Don't say _anything_, for the love of Christ."

The German Order stayed staring at Hungary, at the small but very obvious breasts, the slim waist that suddenly didn't look at all like a boy's skinniness and at – his eyes drifted lower in fascination – at –

"You're a girl," he said in wonder.

"Jesus!" Austria snapped. "What did I _just say?_"

"No, I'm not," Hungary said. "I'm a boy. I told you, I'm a late developer."

"You look pretty developed to me," the German Order said. "Not that I spend time hanging out with naked girls," he added quickly. "I've got far higher moral standards than that."

Hungary's face was looking stormy and petulant. "I. Am. A. Boy," she said. "Austria? Tell him I'm a boy."

"He's short-sighted, not blind," the German Order said, and leant across to retrieve Austria's glasses from under the pillows. He opened the little box and jammed them onto Austria's nose. "Does that look like a boy to you?"

"Don't kill us," Austria said, which wasn't really an answer, but then the German Order saw that Hungary had leapt off the bed and picked up the sword he'd taken from Russia.

"Uh-oh," he said.

Ten minutes later, as they stood outside, naked and shivering in the snow, Hungary opened her shutters and tossed all their belongings out to land clattering around them. They dressed in cold, wet silence and trudged out of the courtyard.

"A few minutes more," Austria said in sudden fury, "you couldn't keep quiet for a few minutes more?"

"Oh, yeah? What do you think she'd have done if we'd done it and _then_ said, _By the way, you're a girl_? We'd _all_ be missing . . . bits."

Austria gave him a dirty look and stalked off towards Vienna. The German Order cast one longing look back at Hungary's window, and made his way back to his brothers and Grand Master.

 

* * *

 

**1525**

 

Prussia sprinted down the corridor, up a narrow spiral staircase and along another corridor where he skidded quickly into a room to hide in the garderobe, counting out a full minute silently to himself, then cautiously exited first the garderobe and then the room, walking as fast as he could without actually _running_ till he at last came to the bits of the castle he recognised and he opened Hungary's door and slipped in, leaning back against it to surreptitiously bolt it. She turned to look at him, raising her eyebrows.

"_There_ you are. Where did you get to?"

"Oh, around," Prussia said airily, smiling peaceably at Austria who was lounging on Hungary's bed. That particular smile always irritated Austria, being one he had no reason to complain of. "Krakow's nice, this time of year."

"Congratulations on becoming a Duchy, Mary," Austria said snippily. "Do you think your liege lord's, like, totally freaking awesome?"

"_I'm_ awesome," Prussia said, at the same time Hungary swiped the back of Austria's head in mild annoyance.

"Don't make fun of the way my friend talks."

"Ow. Sorry, Hungary."

Prussia mentally chalked up a point to himself. He'd made his own opinions on Poland clear plenty of times, but not today. If his Grand Master wanted to become a Duke and kiss the king of Poland's hand for it, then that was his business. Prussia had taken a vow of obedience, back when he was the German Order, and he'd obediently gone along with what his suddenly-a-duke had wanted, even though he hadn't been all that sure he wanted to be _Prussia_. Still, he thought, noting the way both Hungary and Austria seemed to have kiss-swollen lips, there were some advantages to this development. If he wasn't a monk any more then he didn't have to worry about breaking his monastic vows, for example. He strolled over and sat on the bed, conveniently blocking Austria's view of Hungary.

"That's a nice dress," he said, which was the fullest extent of his knowledge of fashion. It _was_ a nice dress, and its green and gold colour made her skin look creamier, and her hair look more auburn and she'd been out in the gardens earlier running round hand-in-hand with Poland and had a nice sun-flush on her face and he had a horrible feeling he wanted to say something _poetic_, which made him both relieved and sorry that the only poems he knew were the psalms.

"Thank you," she said. "You look very nice too."

"It's a bit different than I'm used to," he said, meaning to follow it up with a joke about how the velvet and silk was a style to which he'd become accustomed, but all of a sudden all he wanted was to be wearing rough homespun and mail, and he fell silent, horribly afraid it was showing in his face. He was rescued by Austria – _of all people!_ he thought – who squeezed his shoulder, a look of mild sympathy in his eyes.

"How do you feel?" Austria said.

Prussia shrugged. "It's – a lot. The towns and the townspeople, and the farmers – I'm used to it mainly just being my brothers – being the members of the old German Order." He gave them both a confident smile; no one ever bothered to look beneath his more obnoxious bouts of confidence. "I'll be the most awesome Duchy ever, you'll see!" He underlined it by lying back against Austria as if he were a rather uncomfortable cushion. He was a little surprised when Austria didn't complain, but instead put his arms round his waist.

"Hungary was saying that maybe you'd like to celebrate your new status," Austria said, his voice just that tone of light humour that said _Look how hard I'm trying to be pleasant, you northern little oik._

Prussia looked at Hungary's wide smile, and how she seemed enthralled by the fact that Austria was now nuzzling against his ear, and he lay back more heavily on Austria who still didn't complain. He turned his head to smile lazily at him, thinking, _You are _so_ whipped_, and then Austria kissed him and Prussia found it impossible to think of anything past the fact that he'd got a _lot_ better at this since the last time they'd tried. Hungary came up and kissed his neck, unbuttoning his coat and sliding a hand in to tug at his shirt. Prussia reached up to cradle her head with one hand and half swayed towards her, half was moved by Austria so he could kiss her mouth. That went well, so he lifted his other hand and cupped her breast, wondering how he could ever have thought she was a boy. Hungary sighed into his mouth; it didn't seem a sigh of irritation or boredom, more an encouraging sound, and Prussia found every last niggling wariness he'd had about the day evaporated. He let Austria pull off his coat and wriggle him out of the shirt and laughed as Austria put his hands and mouth on warm bare skin, kissing and licking his way across the breadth of his shoulders. He didn't know why they always rubbed each other up the wrong way at first – Austria was clearly a man of distinguished taste and delicate skills. Hungary for her part was kissing his face, his mouth, his throat, leaving him feeling hotter and less able to speak with every passing second. When she climbed up on the bed with them, Prussia managed to remember how much he hated it when people stole a march on him, but how good it felt to do it to others, and got a hand positioned under her skirts on her calf before the thought was even half formulated. It was at this point, when he was half naked and Austria was trying to open his hose while still kissing him, and Hungary was also kissing him and shifting to make it easier for him to run a hand up her neatly muscled leg, that someone started yelling outside the bedroom door, and knocking in a way that seemed to presage knocking it down.

"Ignore it," Prussia gasped. "It's probably just someone who's got the wrong room." He had no real idea what was being shrieked out in the corridor; the door was blessedly thick and sturdily bolted, and he'd never been interested in learning Lithuanian swearwords. Unfortunately his new name could be heard quite clearly mixed in with the invective, and first Hungary and then Austria straightened up and looked at the door and back at him.

"What did you do?" Hungary asked.

"Nothing!" Prussia said, stung. "Really, nothing." The door rattled on its hinges and Prussia recalled just how severe a personality change Lithuania had when he really lost his temper. "I gave Lithuania something back that I took ages ago," he said. "I was being _friendly_. Remember that amber cross I had? I thought I'd give it back as a gesture of reconciliation, so I did, and I just told him he should be glad I got rid of its dirty pagan images and that anyway now that I follow Luther's theology it was my duty to bring him the Reformation just like I'd done my bit to help him convert in the first place, and he'd be happier once he stopped being a benighted Catholic. And then he chased me all over the castle howling for my blood. I have no idea why." He looked at their faces. "Seriously, what did I do wrong?"

"Are we _benighted_ too?" Hungary snapped. "Well?"

"Um," Prussia said. "I'm not sure I'd put it quite like that –"

Outside there were now clearly two voices, Lithuania still yelling and – though the words couldn't be made out - what sounded like Poland trying to calm him down.

"I'll talk to them," Hungary said, rolling her eyes at the expression on Prussia's face. She slid off the bed and smoothed down her skirts before heading for the door.

"In trouble with your liege lord already," Austria said. "Fast work, Prussia."

"I'm not in trouble with him," Prussia said, peering over the end of the bed as Hungary opened the door and stood firmly in the centre of it to stop sudden charges. "I mean, it's not like I said anything against him or anyone, really. I can't help it if his toy-boy boyfriend is oversensitive about his filthy pagan past."

There was a pause in which the silence deepened more than Prussia liked.

"You could have said that at less than full volume," Austria said idly, as Lithuania tried to charge in, was grabbed by both Hungary and Poland and manhandled out the door, yelling in renewed fury. Prussia watched wide-eyed, and looked back warily at Austria, who flung himself back onto the pillows.

"This never works," Austria said, to no one in particular. "I don't know _why_ Hungary insists on trying."

 

* * *

 

**1741**

 

Prussia grinned widely, the joy of battle sweeping over him as his horse galloped full-tilt towards the Austrian lines. They were _far_ too late and too few to keep him out of Prague. He slashed an Austrian soldier across the face and was gone long before the man fell lifeless from his horse. It seemed mere moments before the city was his.

"A lovely place, my friend," France said, sitting elegantly atop his horse as the French and Prussian soldiers ran through the streets. "Let us hope they don't spoil _all_ the pretty girls before we are finally at leisure to spoil them too."

"Uh-huh," Prussia said, not listening. It was always a shame when the fighting stopped and the screams from the civilians started. It seemed much fairer to keep such things between armies. He frowned and looked sidelong at France. "What did you say?"

"I _said_," France said casting his eyes towards Heaven, "did you hear that Hungary has rebelled against our dear friend in Vienna?"

Prussia laughed, loud and harsh. She'd be magnificent, he thought, like an _Amazon_. His classical education was lacking in many areas, but he'd seen engravings of Amazons in books of Greece's myths, and they didn't wear any clothes on top. The resulting reverie was broken only when France pummelled him on the shoulder.

"For God's sake, man! Take that drippy smile off your face and let's find something to drink."

By the time they'd got _properly_ drunk, one of the Holy Roman Empire's Electors had proclaimed himself Archduke of Austria and Holy Roman Emperor, and made some rousing speeches about why women were generally useless and couldn't be trusted to run a kitchen, let alone a kingdom. Prussia was fairly sure he could hear the outraged screeching from Vienna, and wondered who had the higher voice, Austria or his favourite little queen? It was disappointing, once he'd sobered up, to discover Austria's queen had written nicely to him. Well not to _him_ exactly, which was a bit rude, he thought, reading over Fritz's shoulder.

"No more fighting?" Prussia said in dismay. "But I've got the armies all ready for you!" It wasn't _fair_, he thought. He wasn't tired of fighting yet. Fritz gave him a look full of dry humour and passed him the letter to read again.

"I have no idea if Marie-Therese thinks she's getting a permanent truce without agreeing Silesia is ours," he said. "Personally I say we rest the men and attack in the new year."

"Yes, sir!" Prussia said in glee, and all but skipped off to spend the Christmas season with his allies. He found France playing cards with Poland, Sweden and Finland, while Spain sat muttering to himself in the corner, looking impoverished.

"Don't play cards with them," Spain said, draining a glass of Madeira. "At least it's possible to _tell_ when _France_ is cheating."

"I don't cheat," France murmured and rolled his eyes as Poland leant forward. "You just went! It's not your turn!"

"It's so totally my turn," Poland drawled. "Right, Finland?"

"Yes," Finland said with a cheerful innocent smile. "Poland, then me, then Sweden, _then_ you, France."

"Dear God," France sighed. "All right, go on, then - where the hell did you get those cards, you little Slavic sodomite?"

"Thank you," Poland giggled, leaning forward and scooping up the purse in front of France.

"Cheating bastards," France growled. "They've been passing cards between them, Prussia. Some people don't understand what it is to be a _gentleman_."

"Dude, cry more," Poland said peaceably, shaking half the coins out into Finland's hand.

"See? Why would he share his winnings if they weren't conspiring to cheat?"

"As long as we're all facing the same way in battle I don't care," Prussia grinned. "Austria's lands are big enough for all of us, and if one of you losers really wants his boss to be emperor, go right ahead. I just want Silesia. This century, anyway."

"Long as I get the rest of Italy, I'm happy," Spain said, finishing off the rest of the good wine and moving on to the bottles they kept for moments of drunkenness and apathy. "I like Italy."

"We _know_," France said. "You've made it so _worryingly_ clear."

"Hey, if everyone else is getting stuff - why is Sweden laughing?"

"I explained in graphic detail why you like Italy so much," France said with a winning smile.

Prussia heaved a sigh and went back out. The room was too full of nations, and none of them was Hungary. "She's too good for you! She's beautiful and strong and she smells like, like . . . sweets!" he yelled in the direction of Vienna, accompanying it with a series of obscene gestures. He had a strange crawling feeling between his shoulder blades and looked round to find Lithuania watching him, eyebrows raised. He made an obscure gesture that Prussia decided to interpret as some sort of Lithuanian mime for _I know I'm a total loser and can never be as great as you_, and went inside to join the others. All in all, it was a relief for everyone when the fighting broke out again.

*

The Austrian forces were routing, which was what they did best, in Prussia's opinion. _Vienna_ was almost in his sights. He was going to haul that glasses-wearing, music-playing, soft-handed weed back north and make him a scullery boy. It would be _wonderful_. Right at that moment his spirit soared, and he saw Austria himself, sword in hand, facing off against Spain. A child peered round from behind Austria, plump face worried. Another child of much the same age stood by Spain, scowling. What the hell they were doing, playing round with kids on the battlefield, Prussia had no idea. It did seem to be distracting them, though, so he crept closer.

"You see, Italy wants to remain with me," Austria said in his fancy, fussy way. "You should be satisfied with South Italy, Spain. You and I shouldn't be fighting, you know that."

"I never wanted to fight you," Spain said sadly, holding tight to the scowling kid's hand. The kid turned its head and looked straight at Prussia who grinned and held a finger up to his lips. _Screw that_ the kid mouthed, and tugged on Spain's hand.

"Spain!"

"I should probably go home," Spain said. "If only you hadn't been allied with England - none of this was _personal_, Austria, you know that, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Spain! Hey, pay attention, you bastard!"

"You need to bring that child up a little better," Austria said disapprovingly. "Children should be seen and not heard." He touched the child with him, one brief, approving pat to the head.

"Romano, shh, grown-ups are talking."

"Why am I the only one round here with fucking eyes? Prussia's right fucking _there!_"

"Surprise!" Prussia said, and got in a good blow at Austria, who moved backwards with the speed of the suddenly very scared. The kids fled shrieking, with Spain in pursuit. Austria got his sword up to parry and that was all he did from then on, Prussia pressing him back towards the gates of the city, their blades ringing together. "Did you miss me?" he said mockingly. "Don't you think your little queen will look pretty begging Fritz for her life? Maybe he'll offer her a safe home away from everyone who wants to be emperor, and I can visit her every day!" Austria's look of desperation hardened into fury and he flung himself forward, doing his best to drive Prussia back.

"You're not setting foot on one more single inch of my lands!" Austria said.

"Pffft," Prussia said. "You and what army? I don't know if you've noticed, but yours is sort of running away."

"Really?" Austria said, and smiled a prissy little smile. "Idiot."

Something was wrong. Something was _really_ wrong. Prussia stepped back cautiously, feeling _horrible_ all over. What on earth - He looked behind him and gasped. Hungarians. Thousands of Hungarian cavalry forces were tearing into his men. "No," he said blankly. "She rebelled. She rebelled against you!"

"Oh, didn't you hear?" Austria said pleasantly. "She came back. Ah - by the way -" He nodded at something to the side, and Prussia turned to see a huge horse bearing down on him, Hungary on its back, dressed in coat and breeches like a man, sword upraised.

"Christ!" Prussia shrieked as he barely parried in time, and sparks flew from their blades. This wasn't good - The horse reared up, its intent to smash its enormous hooves down on his head clear in its expression, and Prussia ran. "Get off your horse and face me like a man!" he yelled. "Bloody girls, wanting some unfair advantage in battle!" To his surprise it worked.

"There are no circumstances I can't kick you from one end of a battlefield to the other!" Hungary yelled, and slid from the horse's back. She ran at him and attacked in a flurry of blows that kept him busy and distracted from Austria for long enough so that it was an unpleasant shock when he realised he was facing two opponents.

"I'm so glad you could make it," Austria said, doing his best to smile at Hungary while directing a blow at Prussia's thigh.

"_Someone_ has to keep you out of trouble," Hungary muttered, trying to hide a little smirk.

"Stop leaving me out!" Prussia screamed, and kicked Austria's feet from under him. Austria's sword flew up in the air and Prussia caught it, stabbing it down and through the sleeve of his coat, pinning Austria to the earth. A second later he hit the ground himself, all the breath gone from his body as Hungary slammed into him. His head spinning, Prussia saw her reverse her grip on the sword and aim a punch of the guard at his face. He caught her wrist and held on, not wanting his teeth shattered. Hungary straddled him, trying to keep him down with her weight as she fumbled for a knife with her other hand. Prussia put all his effort into one last try and wrenched her sword away, then grabbed her hair and pulled her down, and kissed her. All the sounds of battle stopped, and he could hear only his own heart, hammering in his chest as she glared at him, wide-eyed. Then her own hand was tight in his hair and she was kissing him back. Prussia pushed them both into a sitting position, so he could keep an eye on Austria, and enjoy his irritation at what was happening. It was a good thing he did so, he decided, seeing Austria trying to fumble with a pistol, one-handed.

"C'mere," Prussia said, and hauled him up, tearing the sleeve of his coat on his own sword. Austria fought against his kiss at first, then did his best to flatten Prussia down into the mud once more, his tongue in his mouth. There didn't seem to be much point in delicately taking off their clothes, seeing as they were all covered in mud, so Prussia just tore Austria's coat open and ripped his shirt down from the neck. Austria's hands were trying to do the same on his breeches, though the slippery mud was making it harder work. It was a better use of all their hands to get Hungary out of _her_ coat and shirt, and to touch her hot skin. _An Amazon_, Prussia thought, kissing her breasts. _Perfect_. Austria had managed to work a hand into her breeches and was kissing her face and neck, his expression enraptured despite the mud on his glasses.

"Get your damn clothes _off_," Hungary gasped. "Both of you, now!" She arched up against Prussia's mouth and Austria's hand, laughing.

Trumpets sounded, far too close.

"What -" Austria said, squinting and trying to see what was interrupting them.

Horses began to stream past them, cavalry officers yelling orders in Hungarian. Prussia peered in the direction they were coming and winced. The Prussian forces had regrouped and were coming in, fast.

"Um. Sorry," he said sheepishly, "my armies -"

Austria and Hungary both looked at him with identical frustrated expressions.

"Now?" Austria said. "You have _never_ had any sense of timing, new boy."

"My name's not "new boy"," Prussia snapped.

"Come on," Hungary said, rolling her eyes. She pulled on her coat and grabbed up her sword. "_Honestly_, Prussia," she started, then just shook her head and leapt back onto her horse, pulling Austria up behind her. The horse wheeled round and sprang after the retreating cavalry. Prussia closed his eyes and lay back in the mud, hoping it was Fritz who found him first. France would never let him live this down.

 

* * *

 

**1990**

 

After the shouting was over and the Wall didn't spring up of its own accord again, Prussia found himself a little overwhelmed by, well, everything, not that he was going to admit it. He'd expected - he wasn't sure. Whatever it was, it wasn't, _Brother! I'm so happy to see you! By the way, I'm seizing your lands and people._ Which was unfair to West, he thought, because what nation could withstand their people's wishes? Both his people and West's had wanted to be one, so that was the end of it. There was no point in acting like a spoilt little kid, especially because that was what West so obviously was waiting for. It was hard, because Prussia really _wanted_ to whine and mope, but that wouldn't look awesome.

"You should build up the army," he said. "Armies are always good for upping employment."

"The army's big enough," West said, poring over his account books.

"I meant it about the employment," Prussia said, just to be clear. "It wasn't a _Hey, West, fancy a military tour of Europe again?_"

"Don't joke," West said.

"Oh, sorry, am I failing at being German? Displaying some un-Teutonic sense of humour?"

"Don't joke about _that_." West looked up, his face worried as usual. "People might talk."

Prussia shrugged and wandered round the room, picking things up just so he could leave fingerprints on them. He could feel West itching to jump up and start polishing everything clean. It was very sad that his brother was such a houseproud loser. He needed to get out more. "Hey, West, why don't go you go and drop in on Italy? I'm sure he'd love to see you."

"I can't just visit people unannounced."

Prussia silently mimicked him, then turned back with a big smile. "It's not "people" I'm talking about, it's Italy. He never calls ahead when he comes here. And you love it."

"I do not."

"You do too."

"I - I'm not getting trapped in one of your silly arguments," West said. "I'm too busy to make social calls."

"Hey, I'll do your work for a few days, you go and have fun -" Prussia almost had his hands on the account books when they were whisked away, West clutching them to him like they were his favourite grandchild.

"No! No, thank you."

"How about I look after the health service? That'd take some of the pressure off you. I used to be a hospitaller order, you know, I'm good with the sick."

"Leave my health service alone," West said in horror. "I'm sure you ran yours to the best of your ability, but -"

Prussia crossed his arms. "But _what?_" West was starting to blush, a horrible blotchy red that didn't look good with his fair skin at all. "But I couldn't possibly ever have done _anything_ as good as the lovely, perfumed, sainted West? You _and_ the rest of them?"

"I'm sure you did the best you could, under the circumstances -" West started.

"Circumstances _forced_ on me and my neighbours, and now your people call mine whining Ossis -"

"Brother, please," West said. "You know that's not what I think. Some people are just rude, that's all." He paused, and went redder. "I don't mind you thinking they're still yours, just - try not to say it in public. It's - inaccurate."

Prussia held his breath. None of the things he wanted to say would make any difference. The silence lengthened till West was about to explode from embarrassment; Prussia laughed as loudly as he could. "God, West," he said, "lighten up, you'll live longer. I'm not hanging round while you play with numbers, I'm going out."

"To meet Hungary?" West said, sounding relieved that his big brother wasn't going to start weeping and fainting like a wilting flower.

"Huh?" Prussia said.

"She rang earlier. Here, she left a message -"

Prussia took the card and glanced at the name of the hotel, written in West's neat, careful handwriting. "Yeah, I'm meeting her," he said. "I'd forgotten the hotel, thanks for writing it down." West nodded, clearly willing to pretend he believed Prussia had known. He headed out the door and paused. "Seriously, West, go and see Italy, you're too tense. It'd do you good to get laid." The sputtering and denials followed him as he left; he grinned more genuinely and stuck his head back round the door. "West, _please_. All of Europe knows." West's expression was the best thing he'd seen all day, and he was in a far better mood as he strolled into town.

The hotel was nicer than he'd expected; Hungary was recovering too, and none of his old neighbours had much money to spend on holidays. He stood in the lobby and looked at the shining wood and brass, the expensive, old-fashioned fittings. This place wasn't cheap; he hoped he could convince her to eat and drink somewhere more affordable. He pulled out his wallet and checked his money. _Damn it_, he thought. He should have asked West for a loan, which wouldn't have been a _loan_ because he had no way of repaying him. He shoved the wallet back in his pocket and glared at the chandelier. _Nine centuries old and I have to ask my kid brother for pocket money?_, he thought. _Screw that. Maybe I still have time to rob a bank -_

"Prussia!"

"Hi," he said, turning with his biggest smile. "Nice hotel."

She grinned at him and kissed his cheek, linking arms with him to swing him round. She still smelled sweet, though her clothes weren't as nice as she usually liked them. To be truthful, Prussia thought, Hungary was looking a bit unfashionable, a bit like she'd been careful of her clothes too long and could no longer disguise the threadbare patches, and a bit tired and washed-out, like she'd had too many worries and too brief a moment of freedom to wipe them away. Like him.

"Let's have a drink," she said.

"Somewhere less snobby," Prussia said quickly. "There's a place I saw up the road -"

"Sure," she said, and went with him to the cheap pub he'd made note of. He bought himself the cheapest beer they had, which left him enough drinks money to buy her a glass of wine and a packet of crisps. "Thanks," she said. "Is that what you usually have?"

"Felt like trying something new." She was lovely, he thought. Even with her hair still looking dull from the damage done to her economy, and her out-of-style clothes, she was still lovely. "Hungary -" he said, and kissed her, his fingers on her cheek. She smiled into the kiss and opened her lips for him. He very much wished they were somewhere private, as he pulled back and sipped his drink, watching the laughter in her eyes. "Why did you marry him?" he asked, which wasn't what he'd wanted to say at all, but she _had_ and it hadn't been _fair_, and she and Austria had found a way to leave him out, forever.

"It was good for my people," she said, not regretful at all. "We were pushed into it by them, you know that." She smiled, a wicked, private smile. "He went down on one knee -"

"Loser," Prussia said automatically, and winced as she slapped his arm.

" - and he quoted poetry and begged me to do him the honour of accepting his proposal of marriage, which was a much nicer way of putting it than our people came up with. _Compromise_." She snorted in offended amusement. "How is it that you never quoted poetry to me?"

"I don't know many poems," he said, "And they're mostly in Latin." He took a deeper swallow of his beer. "Columba mea in foraminibus petrae, in caverna maceriae, ostende mihi faciem tuam, sonet vox tua in auribus meis, vox enim tua dulcis et facies tua decora. How's that?"

"See? You can do it if you try. Though I'm not sure I'm peaceful enough to be called a dove."

_But your voice _is_ sweet, and your face _is_ lovely,_ he thought, though he couldn't quite manage to say it.

"Come on," Hungary said, downing the last of her wine and standing. "We need to go back to the hotel for dinner."

"I'm not really hungry," Prussia said. "Let's go for a walk."

"Maybe later." She bent down to whisper in his ear. "Come on, Prussia, Austria is paying." When he didn't move she sighed in irritation. "Up! We're going to dinner, and you can be nice to him." She pulled him up and linked arms, leaning into him. "Don't look so forlorn," she said. "It's eighty years since he and I got divorced, we can all be friends now." She marched him out the door and into the street, where he had to give up and actually walk properly, lest people see him being dragged bodily along by a woman.

"It's a rare day Austria opens his wallet. If he's paying, I'm having a starter _and_ dessert," he said.

"Damn right," Hungary grinned. She broke away suddenly, and waved. "Austria!"

She ran down to the hotel, going up on her toes to lightly kiss his lips. Prussia followed more slowly, and stood before them; then Austria surprised him for the first time in centuries, and hugged him.

"Prussia. It's good to see you." His clothes were a lot better than either Prussia's or Hungary's, and he looked nowhere near as tired as Prussia felt. "I'm so glad you're back here."

"Only natural," Prussia said. "You've fancied me for almost a thousand years. Let's eat!"

Austria didn't look even the slightest bit irritated; he just clapped Prussia on the shoulder and took Hungary's hand, and led them to the hotel restaurant. Prussia grabbed a menu and got ready to order lobster for at least his starter and main course. Possibly he'd have a third one with ice cream as dessert. He paused, reading the menu - _Or_, he thought, _I could have something I actually like. This looks pretty good._

"Are you sure you want a stew?" Hungary said, once they'd ordered.

"Yes," Prussia said. "I like plain food. It's more masculine," he added, smirking sidelong at Austria. There was no need to say it was comfort food or that he could imagine sitting and eating with Fritz. When it came, it was delicious, and he forgave Austria's fussing over exactly which wine went with stew. After, he sat in a pleasant food-haze; he could walk it off on his way back to West's house, he supposed.

Hungary stood up and held out her hand. "Come with me."

"OK," Prussia said, and folded her hand into his, liking the feel of her fingers. She led him away while Austria settled the bill, and pulled him into a lift. "Where are we going?"

"Up," she smiled, pressing a button for the fifth floor. She wound her arms round his neck and kissed him, laughing a little into his mouth as he held her tight, then led him out into a corridor, and to a door. The room was large and comfortably furnished, with a big bed, a pleasant desk and a small two-seater settee facing the TV. Hungary kicked off her shoes with a groan of relief. "You men don't know how easy you have it," she said. "Would you like another drink?"

"Sure," Prussia said, and watched her crouch down to examine the contents of the mini-bar. The only thing he wanted was for her to kiss him again. "Anything."

She poured them both a brandy and sat by him on the settee, sipping it. Prussia wondered how hard she'd hit him if he just jumped on top of her. Not that he would, it would look like he was desperate, and he wasn't. _Much_, he thought. _Kiss me. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me_. Hungary just sipped her drink, looking at him in amusement. After a few moments more she set her glass on the floor, lifted her skirt a bit to make it easier to move, and straddled his legs, a knee on either side of him. She laughed as he tried to put his glass down, and then just swallowed his brandy down in one mouthful when it proved too difficult. He wrapped an arm round her waist to keep her from slipping off, and stroked her ass with the other hand. Charging straight at any problem had rarely failed him, and even when it had, it was always fun while it lasted. She didn't slap him, so he tried the effect of squeezing her ass too, and she pushed him back against the cushions to kiss him into submission. He barely noticed when the door opened and Austria slipped in.

"Hey," Austria said, squashing in beside them. He put his arms round both of them, and kissed first Hungary then Prussia. "Wouldn't you rather be more comfortable?"

"That's the worst line ever," Prussia said. "Haven't you ever seen a romantic film?"

"I meant it literally," Austria said, looking a bit confused. "I just think the bed's more comfortable."

Hungary chuckled, and climbed off Prussia's lap. "He's right," she said, and hauled Prussia up after her, spinning him round and pushing him onto the bed. "Where were we? Ah, yes -" She climbed back on top of him and kissed him again. He pulled her tight against him so he could feel her against his whole body and laughed with joy as she rocked her hips against him. It was only a little inconvenience when the mattress dipped and Austria lay beside them, one hand stroking down Hungary's back. She turned Prussia's head so Austria could kiss him, then dropped a quick peck on his cheek before rolling off. "I just want to take my tights off," she said. "I'll be right back." As Austria kissed him again Prussia watched her out of the corner of his eye, dropping her rings onto the desk, then unselfconsciously unzipping her skirt to land in a ripple of fabric around her feet, and rolling her tights down carefully. She pulled her top off too, tossing it to one side.

"Oh, God," Prussia said at the sight of her standing there in her underwear, and Austria laughed, quite kindly.

"Yes, I entirely agree," he murmured, and undid Prussia's trousers. "Is this all right?" he asked, and slipped his hand into Prussia's underwear.

"Oh, _God_," Prussia said in wonder, pushing up into his hand. "You and your fucking finger exercises!"

Austria laughed, a lot. He laughed more than Prussia ever remembered him doing, which was both interesting and sort of alarming to see. It also made it difficult for him to do what he'd been doing with his long, clever fingers, so Prussia smacked him on the shoulder till he got control of himself. "Sorry," Austria wheezed, "sorry." He sat up and pulled off his own shirt, then started undoing Prussia's, a task made more difficult when Hungary got back on the bed and Prussia tried to drag them both on top of him at once. It got very tangled and no one could do much, but he didn't care.

"He's not even undressed," Hungary said.

"We can solve that, can't we?" Austria said, smiling at Prussia, and sorting them out so he could finally lose the shirt. He kissed him again, working his way down, kissing and sucking at his collarbone and chest. Prussia held on, stroking whatever bits of either of the others came within reach, feeling quite overcome. It was only natural they both wanted him, of course, even as kids they'd fancied him. It was just that he wanted _them_ so very much, and wished he could find a way to say it without sounding like some sort of soft-hearted, soft-headed loser. He settled for touching them very gently, trying to resist just hugging them so tight they couldn't move. Hungary was kissing his chest as well now, and they were both still creeping down, which he didn't want to think too much about, in case it didn't happen and he was disappointed.

"Do you want to or should I?" Hungary said, and it must have been meant for Austria, who replied,

"I don't mind. Whatever you prefer."

"Where's the -"

"Bedside cabinet, in the drawer." Austria came back up to kiss Prussia's mouth again, leaning on him heavily. He wasn't as gangly and sharp-elbowed as he'd been when younger, his limbs and body more padded with his adult weight.

"His legs will go to sleep," Hungary said. "Don't worry, Prussia, I'll move him."

"I'm fine," Prussia said, but she wasn't listening.

"Don't be selfish," she said in a low voice. "Really, Austria, we _talked _ about this -"

"Sorry," Austria said. "It'll be easier once I get the rest of his clothes off."

"Don't leave him to do it by himself," Hungary said.

"You don't have to talk over me like I'm not here," Prussia said, grinning.

Hungary patted his shoulder. "We're not. You don't have to worry." She turned her attention back to Austria. "Don't let him get upset."

"Sorry," Austria murmured, shifting so he wasn't on top of Prussia any more. It felt a little cold to no longer have him pressed so close.

"I'm not upset -" Prussia started, but Austria hadn't said it to him. Hungary gave Austria a meaningful look, a sort of _I lived in your house for centuries and then I married you and you know _exactly_ what this look means, so behave yourself_ level glance, then turned back to Prussia with a bright and happy smile, fitting herself back into both his and Austria's embrace. Prussia frowned. She kissed him again, but it didn't feel like it had before, and neither did Austria's touch. He wasn't really sure how it had happened, but it had all turned from something they'd been doing with him to something they were doing to him. Hungary's hand joined Austria's, both of them stroking him slowly. It felt oddly - orchestrated. _Oh, my God_, he thought in horrible, cold shock. None of this was to do with him at all. He was just there to make things more interesting for _them_, like some sort of toy. It took a lot of effort not to shake from sheer humiliation, but he managed not to do more than flinch a little.

"Are you all right?" Austria said, what sounded like real worry in his voice. "Did I press on a nerve? Are you cold? Can I get you something?"

Prussia sat up and looked at them both, at their concerned expressions and felt his heart sink even lower, thinking about how _nice_ they had both been to him, how Austria hadn't said even one snippy, stuck-up thing. The truth was worse than he'd thought. They were _sorry_ for him. _Poor little Prussia_, he thought bitterly. _Loses his lands, loses his people but we can at least give him a pity fuck._ The last remnants of his desire flickered out; Austria looked down at his hand's position and back up, a little too determinedly casual.

"Don't worry," he said, "it happens to everyone, you'll be all right again in a minute."

"I should go," Prussia said.

"What? No -"

"Why?"

"I have to go," Prussia said and did his level best not to throw them off the bed. He couldn't look in their faces, he thought - he'd drop dead from shame. Which was the kind of thing losers thought, so he looked them defiantly in the eye, and watched them realise he knew. They made no effort to stop him dressing or leaving, which hurt as well. _Don't be so stupid_, he thought. He might have lost everything that people thought was important, but he still had his pride, and it got him to the door without running.

"Prussia -" Hungary said, her voice small and lost.

"Relax, I'm fine," he said and was surprised how _normal_ he sounded. "I'll see you around. You should come to West's place and put fingerprints on things, it drives him up the wall." He grinned and was out the door, safe where they couldn't see how he staggered from the sheer weight of his misery. He thought he heard Hungary crying, but it was far too late to care about any of that.

He'd be fine, he thought, wiping at the irritating moisture in his eyes. He took deep breaths of the cold air as he came out into the street, telling himself to calm down. It was a long walk back to West's, and no one would be surprised if he went straight to bed. He didn't think he'd have to worry about crying himself to sleep; he was down on his luck, sure, but that didn't have to mean he'd turned pathetic as well. _I'm the _German Order_. I'm the _Duchy_ and _Kingdom_ of _Prussia_ dammit_, he reminded himself as he got his fast walk down from _retreat_ to something more like _man with somewhere to go_. He fixed his most obnoxious smile on his face and forced himself to look two passing girls in the eye and wink. "I'm the fucking _German Democratic Republic_," he said conversationally and strode past before he had to listen to them speculate on the sanity of drunken Ossis. What did he care? They weren't _his_ people, he owned no human or nation a damn thing any more.

He forced all thoughts from his head and kept walking.

 

* * *

 

**2009**

 

The gardens of Sanssouci were beautiful as ever. Prussia closed his eyes and imagined he could hear the dogs yelping in glee as Fritz threw balls for them to chase.

_Other kings think it beneath their dignity to do this, you know_, Fritz said, laughing.

"Yeah, well they're losers," Prussia whispered, echoing his long-ago words.

_I bet I can throw the next one further than you._

"I bet you can't." He sighed and opened his eyes, smiling down at the stone set in the grass. "I'm glad they brought you here at last. You belong here." He hunkered down and ran a hand over the neatly manicured grass. It felt - like grass. He couldn't feel the land properly; he just touched the surface of things, like a human. "I'm OK," he said, because Fritz had always worried about his kingdom. "They tried to screw us over, but I'm OK. People round here must still feel Prussian, which is only natural." He looked around at the people enjoying the summer weather; amongst the new faces of peoples from all over the world there were faces he wouldn't have been surprised to see in the eighteenth century. For that matter, there were faces he wouldn't have been surprised to see on the Prussian pagans against whom he'd crusaded. _You're all my people_, he thought, _whatever your origins, you're still my people, no matter what the world says._ He straightened up as the woman coming towards him looked straight at him and smiled.

"Hello, Hungary," he said as she stopped beside him. "How did you know I was here?"

"The date," she said. "You always come to talk to him on the anniversary."

"I'm steadfast," he said.

"Yes."

"Not predictable."

"No."

Prussia looked at her, trying to work out what was different. Her hair had been curled, he decided. It was glossier and healthier-looking than he remembered, though she had to be feeling the effects of the recession like everyone else. He took her arm and walked away from the grave down towards the great fountain, the rim of its basin crammed with tired tourists. Prussia homed in on a tiny gap created by the angle of a girl's body as she leant over to kiss her boyfriend. It was easy enough to claim more and more space just by the sheer power of his presence, and the fact that the embracing teenagers currently sitting there had no defences against Prussian expansionism and had to stand or risk falling into the water. Hungary rolled her eyes and sat beside him, giggling at the dirty looks the ousted lovers gave them.

"How have you been?"

"Me? I've been awesome," Prussia said. "I hear you've been luring in tourists with the promise of cheap dental treatment."

"Come for the fillings, stay for Budapest," Hungary said. "Lots of the neighbours do it too." She took his hand, twining their fingers together. "Are you really all right?"

"Hungary, now I _have_ to say I'm fine," Prussia grinned. "My manly pride will allow nothing less. Did you think you'd find me crying over Fritz's grave?"

"No," she said. "I think you do that sort of thing when you're sure there's no one else around." She tightened her fingers. "Prussia? I'm sorry."

He transferred her hand to his free one, and put his arm around her shoulders. She rested her head down on his shoulder, inching closer as he lowered his face to her hair. She smelt as sweet as ever. "OK," he said. Maybe they could just stay like this forever, he thought. That would be nice. A few minutes more and he was itching to move, to get off the fountain rim and to _do_ something. It was the worst part of being a man of action, he knew, and it certainly wasn't a disordered attention or whatever West called it. He pulled his camera out of his pocket holding it up facing him and Hungary. It'd make a cool picture for his blog. She didn't object, so he took a few more quick shots. "Let's get lunch," he said, zooming in and out on his favourite of the pictures. "Something with lots of wurst and potatoes. Where's Austria? I know he's got to be round here somewhere, and sent you in first 'cos you're more of a man."

"You have some _incredibly_ outdated ideas," Hungary snorted.

"I'm nearly one thousand, I'm entitled to them," he said. "Where is he?"

Hungary held a hand up to her ear. "Listen."

In the distance Prussia heard someone playing the violin. "He's standing in his house practicing scales with the window open?"

"He's closer," Hungary laughed, and sprang up. "Come on."

_Don't take her hand_, Prussia told himself. _Just give up_. Then, _I_ never_ give up_. He took her hand and led the way towards the music. Austria was standing on the steps of the Temple of Friendship, violin in hand, eyes closed as he played. Prussia raised his eyebrows at the open violin case filled with coins.

"That's cheap, even for you," he said.

Austria ignored him, still playing.

"Seriously," Prussia said to Hungary, "he's even playing stuff with a tune that ordinary people can follow, he might as well be begging."

Austria finished his tune and lowered the violin. "I don't beg."

"Explain this, then," Prussia said, tapping the violin case with one foot.

"People merely showed their appreciation for some decent music," Austria sniffed. The very smallest of smiles crossed his face. "I also played _Smells Like Teen Spirit_ for some American tourists."

"You big tart," Prussia sniggered. He sniggered some more at the fact that under Austria's stuck-up expression was something altogether more worried and unsure. _What the hell_, he thought, and slung an arm round his neck. "You know, for someone who lives on coffee and chocolate, you really have an unfairly good complexion."

"It's the clean mountain air," Austria said. "At least my diet doesn't consist entirely of potatoes and beer."

"I also eat wurst," Prussia said. "And a healthy Mediterranean diet - I steal the leftovers whenever Italy cooks. You should try pasta sometime; he even makes desserts out of it. You could smother it in whipped cream and stud it with Mozartkugeln." It felt good to be childishly rude to Austria, like some essential balance in the universe had been righted.

"Idiot," Austria said, sounding like he thought the same thing. "Shall we eat lunch? The people of Potsdam are paying." He indicated the violin case.

"Typical, you invite me to lunch, and my own people have to pay?"

"_Germany's_ people," Austria said smugly, and took a sharp breath as Hungary squeezed his hand.

"Nothing too mean from either of you," she said warningly. "We're all friends here. Aren't we?"

"Yes, Hungary," they chorused meekly.

_Loser_, Prussia mouthed at Austria behind her back.

_Idiot_, Austria mouthed back.

"Are you both a century old?" Hungary said without turning. "I don't even have to see what you're doing to tell you to stop."

They looked at each other, at her and back to each other again. "Yes, Hungary." They crouched down to count the money, Prussia shaking his head.

"You've got over a hundred euro here." He picked up a fifty-euro note. "One of the Americans?"

Austria nodded. "Some people appreciate a good musician."

"Yes, _quite_," Prussia said, imitating his accent. "It's more likely it was mistaken for a five. Or were you selling kisses too?"

"No," Austria said, "they're quite free. If you ask nicely."

"Pfft," Prussia suggested. He worked on stacking up the coins by denomination, then watched Austria put them away neatly in various pockets before shutting the violin away in its case. "Can we finally get some lunch now?" he asked.

"Yes," Austria said. He took Hungary's arm, which seemed unfair to Prussia, and tried to lead her away. She waited till she had linked arms with Prussia as well, and they strolled off together through the park. The trip back to the centre of Potsdam went quickly, and it was suspiciously easy to find a restaurant they could all agree on. "It serves plain, masculine food," Austria said, looking sidelong at him.

Prussia narrowed his eyes, looking for some hint he was being humoured or treated like a damn charity case, and decided Austria was trying to _tease_ him. Well, he could take a joke, he decided. He wasn't the sort of loser who couldn't laugh at himself. He smiled pleasantly and whisked Hungary through the door and to a seat at a table before Austria could even complain that she'd been seated where _he_ couldn't sit beside her as well. Austria said nothing, just calmly read the menu, looking down his nose in a way that simultaneously annoyed and fascinated Prussia. The specs-wearing weed was just trying to see more clearly, he told himself, and reached over to snag the glasses from Austria's face.

"Hey!" Austria said.

Prussia put the glasses on and winced. The world was even wavier than the last time he'd taken them. "New glasses?" he said, moving his head carefully. "Are you sure they help you to see?" He looked down at the menu and felt vaguely sea-sick. "Hey, are these _bi-focals_?"

"They are not bi-focals," Austria said, carefully retrieving them and producing a soft cloth to polish Prussia's fingerprints away. "They're varifocals."

"I see," Prussia said. "That means you're getting old, right?" He grinned at the look Austria sent his way, and beckoned the waiter over before he could reply, ordering wurst for everyone. "Let's eat in peace," he said. "I propose a ceasefire."

"You get the last shot and _you_ propose a ceasefire?" Austria said. He shook his head. "Fine." He put his glasses back on and launched into a lecture about music that Prussia couldn't understand at all; it was all right, he decided, because Hungary had a fond expression on her face like she was just humouring her geek of an ex, and anyway, talking about music was a sign that Austria was happy and not spoiling for a fight. It was even sort of nice, the way his face got so intent and he just looked so _pretty_. And the wurst were tasty when they arrived and the beer was cold, so Prussia could forgive a bit of musical theory. By the end of lunch, with a full stomach and Hungary's hand on his leg, he felt he could forgive a lot more, and broke into the flow of abstruse information about some composer who wrote things with no tune or bits ordinary people could hum along to and said, "I'm asking nicely."

"Pardon me?" Austria said. He looked confused, then, "Oh." He leant over and kissed Prussia on the lips, a dry, close-mouthed kiss.

"I asked _nicely_," Prussia said, taking a leaf from Hungary's book and sliding his hand up Austria's thigh. He wrapped Austria's always-errant curl of hair round his other index finger and pulled gently, letting it unwind with a spring.

"I suppose you did," Austria said with a hitch in his breath, and, "don't tug on Mariazell," he said and kissed him again, a lot less chastely. He sat back, his breathing faster than before, his eyes flicking down in disbelief to where Prussia's hand had stopped. "We'll be thrown out," he said, and his voice was probably huskier than he'd intended, which Prussia counted as a win. He cleared his throat, "We should pay, I think." And, after another moment, "If you could just take your hand away from my crotch for a few moments?"

"If you're sure," Prussia teased, and folded his hands neatly on the table. Hungary giggled and did likewise, which was a disappointment, but he supposed Austria had a point. He sat there, on his best behaviour, until the bill was safely paid and they could leave. It wasn't until they were standing in the street, all looking at each other and thinking, _What now?_ that he realised his dilemma. Where could they go? The thought of going back to West's house was horrific; Prussia had always prided himself on being able to rattle West's impeccably tidy cage, but he remembered what it had been like to share a house with West and Austria in the previous century, and Austria was a _lot_ meaner than he looked when it came to getting under West's skin. Anyway, it was _West's_ house and it would be - Prussia took a surprised breath at the thought - embarrassing. Going to Austria's house would be just as bad; he'd have to get them coffee and cake, and would fuss and offer them cushions for chairs and they would never, ever get out of his sitting room or even onto his sofa. He couldn't afford a hotel room and it would be tacky to suddenly ask the others if they could, so - he smiled winningly at Hungary and hoped she had developed the talent of reading minds. "Maybe we could - " he said, putting an arm round her waist and around Austria's. "If you don't mind -"

Hungary smiled at him in a way that made his mind go perfectly blank. "It's been a long time since you visited my house," she said. "Why don't we go to Budapest?"

"Great!" Prussia said, and hurried them along before anyone could change their mind.

Hungary's house wasn't as grand as he remembered from the middle ages, but it was a lot better than it had been in the nineteen seventies and eighties. It was comfortable and warm, and he felt as welcome as he could remember. Hungary put her handbag neatly away and took Austria's violin case from him, not without a small struggle. She took both their hands and squeezed tight. "You know," she said, "I would really like to go to bed with you both." Prussia and Austria stepped forward at the same time to embrace her and she let go of their hands, opening her arms. They stood there, arms wrapped round each other, and Prussia felt his heart lift. "Come on," Hungary said, and grabbed their hands again, laughing as she pulled them back into the hall and up the stairs. The door to her bedroom stood open, and she led them through it happily. Prussia looked round her room in delight, utterly charmed by its prettiness and the delicate ornaments and perfume bottles on her dressing table. It was a little annoying to see Austria clearly was not on his first visit to her room, but Prussia refused to allow his good mood to evaporate, especially when Hungary took his hand and put it under her blouse. She put her arms round his neck and kissed him, turning to kiss Austria as well as he held them both.

"I'm still no good at poetry," Prussia said.

"That's all right," Hungary said.

"Luckily _one_ of us is trained in the arts," Austria murmured.

"Yeah? Well, luckily the other two of us are decent soldiers," Prussia shot back.

"You could continue bickering," Hungary said, "or you could undress me."

Prussia grinned. "Yes, Hungary," he said, leaving Austria to be the echo. He carefully started unbuttoning her blouse, cursing the tiny buttons for being unsuited to his fingers. Austria unzipped her skirt and helped her step out of it. Prussia didn't acknowledge how grateful he was when Austria moved on to helping him, and finally managed to get her out of the blouse. Hungary held up her hair as Austria moved round to unclasp her necklace; he passed it to Prussia to put on the dressing table. When Prussia turned back, Austria had opened her bra and was sliding the straps down her arms. Prussia stood transfixed at the sight of her breasts until she kicked off her sandals and beckoned him closer, taking his hands to hook his fingers into the top of her underpants. _Charge_, he thought, and pushed them down, taking her elbow to steady her as she stepped out and stood there entirely naked, the first such sight he'd had of her in seven hundred years.

"Oh, God," he said, touching her skin with gentle, reverent fingers. He crushed her close against him and whispered in her ear, "You're so beautiful."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I won't tell anyone you said that."

"Thanks." He looked over her shoulder at Austria, who was watching them avidly. "You shouldn't have married her."

"I love her," Austria said, as if that let him off the hook.

"Huh," Prussia said, wishing he were the sort of person who could just say things like that, like he was talking about the weather, or something. "Always leaving me out," he muttered.

"Oh, Prussia - " Austria started, then just kissed him as Hungary kissed his throat and chest. He took Prussia's hand and guided it across Hungary's skin, using Prussia's fingers to touch her shoulders, her arms, her back. Prussia found he could release his death grip on her, and watched, fascinated as Austria moved his hand, circling it over her breast, down her side and onto her hip. "Here," Austria whispered, and moved Prussia's fingers between her legs. "Touch her here."

Prussia moved his fingers as Austria directed, his mouth dry, watching Hungary watching him. She let herself be supported against Austria, smiling lazily as he played with her breasts with his other hand. Prussia swallowed, wondering what they saw in his face as they both watched him. Austria urged him to faster speed, and Hungary closed her eyes, her breathing quickening. She opened her eyes to look at him again as her breaths finally stuttered and gasped, and hugged him tight, kissing him. Austria put his arms round them both, squashing Hungary in between Prussia and him. _Don't let go_, Prussia thought. _Neither of you let go_.

"I think we should get undressed as well," Austria said.

"You should," Hungary said, sounding a little muffled. She wriggled free, a wide smile on her face, and pushed them back into each other's arms.

"This makes it difficult to undress," Prussia said, as Austria kissed along his jawline.

"It's just challenging," she said, and sat neatly on the bed.

_Challenging_, Prussia thought, and did his best to get Austria's clothes off without breaking the kiss. He liked a challenge. Eventually they _had_ to let go for a few seconds, to get their trousers fully off, but that was all right, because Prussia was faster and Austria _still_ never made sure his footing was secure and Prussia swept his legs out from under him, giving him a guiding shove so he fell back on the bed beside Hungary. Prussia fell on top of him a split-second later, driving the breath from both their lungs. Hungary laughed in delight, and the irritation in Austria's eyes died.

"Let me take these," Hungary said, and gently took Austria's glasses away, perching them on her own nose and peering owlishly at them both before wincing and putting them on the bedside table.

"Everyone makes fun of my glasses," Austria said in mock severity. "It's a cheap shot."

"That's why Hungary and me were always better at fighting than you," Prussia said. "We know winning is what's important. Speed, efficient actions, not giving the other guy time to come up with a retort -" He closed his hand round Austria's cock and stroked firmly, grinning as Austria gasped. "See?" He was going to laugh at how easy it had been to knock Austria down, but then he saw how Austria was looking at him with longing and pleasure, and he found he couldn't laugh at all. _He really does want me_, Prussia thought. _Well, of course he does_ he told himself quickly, then Austria's hand was between _his_ legs and he found he wasn't thinking much any more.

Hungary stroked their faces and hair, murmuring, "You're both so pretty."

Austria and Prussia shared a look of masculine annoyance. "Darling -" Austria said, as Prussia thought that it was one thing for him to consider _Austria_ pretty, but _his_ charms were altogether more manly.

"Handsome," she amended. "You're both very handsome." She slipped her hand between them and helped Prussia stroke Austria, who whimpered and thrust up into their hands. He seemed to have forgotten what he had been doing, but Prussia found himself too fascinated by his helpless, hungry expression to complain. When Austria finally clutched his arms tight enough to bruise and came, his face buried against Prussia's neck, Prussia grinned in victory, sure he was the best either of them had ever had.

"Prussia," Hungary said, and pulled at him to roll over. He let her move him, and did his best not to actually cheer when she straddled him, easing down onto him, warm and lovely. He thrust up as she rocked her hips against his and pulled her down to kiss her. Everything he wanted to say seemed horribly wet or poetic, so he just concentrated on touching her and smelling the sweet scent of her hair. He wanted to stay where he was forever, he thought, and held her tighter. It didn't last nearly as long as he wanted it, and when she kissed his face and gently wiped her fingers under his eyes he wondered just how much he had embarrassed himself before her. "Just something in your eye," she said kindly, and slowly eased herself off him.

Prussia lay, gasping for air, between them as they lay close and put their arms across him. He felt warm and comfortable and utterly peaceful.

"I've never said this," Austria murmured, kissing lightly where he had bitten Prussia's collarbone as he climaxed, "but I've always liked the colour of your hair."

"Huh," Prussia said. "I have no objections to the colour of yours."

Austria laughed softly against his skin. "Silly new boy," he said fondly.

"Mary," Hungary said, teasingly.

Prussia was too pleased with himself to argue. He slid his arms under them and held them close, so they couldn't leave him by himself. "That went well," he said in satisfaction. "I really don't know why we didn't do it before." They both laughed enough to make him shake, but he forgave that magnanimously. After all, _he'd_ laugh for joy if he finally got to go to bed with him, after waiting for so very, very long.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

**Author's Note:**

> [Orden der Brüder vom Deutschen Haus St. Mariens in Jerusalem](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teutonic_Knights). In 1211 the Teutonic Knights came to help Hungary against incursions by the [Kipchak Turks](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kipchak). Admit it or not, wee!Prussia was very much the new boy.  
> 
> 
> [Battle of Lake Peipus/The Battle on the Ice](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Lake_Peipus#The_battle)   
> 
> 
> [Prussia becomes a duchy](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duchy_of_Prussia#Establishment)   
> 
> 
> [The War of Austrian Succession](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/War_of_the_Austrian_Succession) and in [more abbreviated form](http://encyclopedia.farlex.com/War+of+the+Austrian+Succession+\(1740–46\))  
> 
> 
> [Frederick II of Prussia (Old Fritz)](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frederick_II_of_Prussia)   
> 
> 
> [Prussia rejoins his brother](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_states_of_Germany)   
> 
> 
> [Sanssouci Palace and park](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sanssouci), and [Friedrich's grave](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Friedrich_der_grosse_grab_hg.jpg)  
> 
> 
> [Mozartkugeln (Mozart Balls)](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mozartkugel)   
> 
> 
> Prussia quotes the Song of Songs 2:14 to Hungary in the Vulgate translation into Latin: My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hollow places of the wall, shew me thy face, let thy voice sound in my ears: for thy voice is sweet, and thy face comely.


End file.
